


Home Remedy

by allixiler



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hannibal Lecter x Reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27087550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allixiler/pseuds/allixiler
Summary: Hannibal knows how to put his former ER doctor skills to the test when you come down with a cold.
Relationships: Hannibal Lecter & Original Female Character(s), Hannibal Lecter/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 20





	Home Remedy

A rather unpleasant noise bellowed through your bedroom as you blew your nose for the hundredth time that day. If you were a celebrity, you would NOT want to be caught dead on camera anywhere at this moment. Your nose was rubbed raw, your eyes were sunken in, your cheeks were slick from the watering of your eyes. You looked, for lack of a better term, like a hot mess. It was probably just a cold. It was autumn time when the seasonal colds and flu came around. Considering you weren’t completely knocked on your ass, it was just a cold.

Still, that didn’t make things any less miserable. Your nasal passage was blocked every way to Sunday (which had given you the most striking headache) and sickly tears leaked from your eyes. On top of this, you were slightly fatigued and very cranky. You had been sick for about two days now. Everybody knows that the second and third day of sickness is the worst. You had been somewhat productive throughout the day, but the late afternoon hit and you crashed. 

Hannibal was on his way, he had called because he “felt something wasn’t right” and when you told him you were sick, he dropped everything to come by. You didn’t really ask him to come over. Honestly, you didn’t want anybody seeing you like this. But if you were going to be in a serious relationship with him, you had to start letting him see you in your less attractive times. 

Sure enough, you heard the rattling of your front door, signaling his arrival. Usually he would knock, but he got the notion that you’d never come and answer the door if he did. So, he used your spare key that was not so well hidden. He had been meaning to ask you about it. 

“[Y/N]?” His accented voice called.

You lifted your head slightly from your stack of pillows, the thumping pain in your head getting worse;

“Up here!” You croaked out pathetically.

You fell back onto the bed, your head feeling like it would explode at any moment. You heard shuffling and footsteps coming up the stairs. Then you saw him standing over you. He cocked his head to meet your gaze, noting that you were basically under the covers;

“Hello in there,” He greeted; “How are you feeling?”

You groaned in response, pinching the bridge of your nose to relieve some pressure in your head.

“I figured as much,” He rummaged through the bag in his hand, pulling out a bottle of aspirin; “Two of these should help.”

You sat up, graciously taking the pills with the water on your bedside table.

“For a woman so sickly, you look just as beautiful.” He complimented.

You normally would blush and shy away from him, but you weren’t really in the mood for his antics;

“Please. I look like I’ve been hit by a car.” You griped.

He grinned in an amused way, sitting on the edge of the bed;

“You never did answer my question, dear.” He replied.

“Oh. I feel terrible. Do you know how many boxes of tissues I’ve gone through today? Four. Four whole boxes!” You exclaimed.

He raised his brows, surprised at your energy. The average person wouldn’t be up for such conversational time that you were currently having.

“That’s a lot of tissues.” He commented.

“I know! It’s insanity. I didn’t even know the body could produce that much…mucus.” You said amazed.

He moved on to his next piece of advice, the real reason he came over. He knew you likely had not eaten, because you tended to get lazy when you weren’t in your best shape.

“I think it would be wise for you to eat. I make a delectable chicken soup. Hot tea would also be beneficial.” He stated.

In your several months with Hannibal, he was very connected with his culinary senses. You had yet to figure out why. His words resonated with you, the heavy growl in your stomach being audibly heard. He took that as his cue, encouraging you out of bed and into the kitchen. Your kitchen was smaller than his. Definitely not as decorative and fit for cooking. However, he was a flexible man, so he could adjust.

He had brought everything he needed; carrots, celery, chicken (of course), onion, star anise, noodles, etc. He never came unprepared. He started with boiling a kettle of water to make tea. Hannibal was a strict believer in tea and what it could do for the body. You watched quietly as he boiled the water, prepared, and presented you with a cup of piping hot tea.

“And what kind is this?” You asked, taking the cup.

“Echinacea tea,” He responded; “It comes from a group of flowering plants in the daisy family. It boosts the immune system and is rich with antioxidants. I took the liberty to stir in a little honey as well. It makes it less bitter.”

You sipped the tea slowly, marveling at how it felt so good on your sore throat. It didn’t taste the best, but it was comforting. Hannibal sliced the carrots and celery, diced the onion, and prepared the chicken to be cooked in the broth on the stove. 

You weren’t sure if it was the tea, the aspirin, or the smell of the food, but your headache was gone and you were beginning to feel a little better. It didn’t take him very long to cook the meal. Apparently, chicken soup isn’t that complex. He ladled it into a bowl, sliding it across the counter. You finished off your tea and gingerly began to spoon the soup mouthful by mouthful. It was nothing short of delicious and it felt very homey. The carrots were soft and sweet, the chicken was salty and fell apart in your mouth. It was the best thing you’d eaten all week.

“This is incredible,” You admired; “I really appreciate it.”

He was proud of his creation, but prouder that you were enjoying it.

“It’s my pleasure. Nothing to it,” He shrugged; “You’re beginning to look a little better.”

Truth was, you already felt better. It was crazy what a cup of tea and bowl of soup could do. He watched as you downed the bowl without a hitch. Your content sigh as a sign that you were satisfied. Now, all you needed was a shower and a good night of rest.

“I think I’m going to take a hot shower. Clear out the sinuses, you know?” You proclaimed.

“Of course. That would be wise.” He agreed, taking your bowl away.

A sneaky smirk riddled your face;

“Actually, Hannibal, I’m still feeling a little drowsy. I think I might fall asleep in the shower.” You hinted.

He was amused;

“Is that so?” He played along; “Well, I suppose I could lend a helping hand then. Just to ensure you don’t completely fall over.”

You cheerily agreed, leading him up the stairs to your shower and later to your bed. Perhaps, being sick wasn’t all THAT bad. Maybe…just maybe;

You wouldn’t mind being sick a little more often.


End file.
